I'll Come Back
by Frau Gloess
Summary: Kit goes off to war; new relationships are formed. Will Kit be able to return to the life he just started?
1. Default Chapter

Short disclaimer: The characters of Molly Cunningham, Rebecca Cunningham, Baloo, Kit Cloudkicker, Wildcat, Shere Khan, Oscar, and Ernie are property of Disney and are used without permission. All other characters are creations of the author. The Ratzis as well as Usland were not created by me, but by other Tale Spin aficionados. This story is rated PG for mild language, violence, and romance.  
  
A very special thanks to Gidget for helping me proofread about 5 chapters of this fic and to anyone else who has helped me along. Now, to the story.  
  
I'll Come Back  
By Rachel Gloess  
  
Chapter 1  
Approximately early 1940  
  
Molly Cunningham stepped softly into her mother's office at Higher for Hire. "Mom, have you seen Kit?"  
  
Mrs. Cunningham glanced around the stacks of papers in order to see her daughter. "I thought he was helping Baloo and Wildcat install something on the Sea Duck."  
  
"Baloo said that Kit came in here. Did he?"  
  
"I'm not sure, honey. I've been absolutely swamped with taxes. You might want to check his room." Mrs. Cunningham returned to her calculator and invoices.  
  
Molly repressed a sigh as she walked up the stairs. Kit's door was closed—a sure sign that he was behind it. She tapped lightly. "Kit?"  
  
A pause. "Come in."  
  
Molly pushed the door open but stayed in the doorframe. "I, uh, just wanted to know if you wanted to come with me to get a sundae. I saved my allowance and everything."  
  
Kit stared at her for a moment. Jeeze, she looked so pretty in that pink sundress. He shook his head. She was just fourteen . . . well, almost fifteen. Still in high school. He was crazy. But a nice bowl of ice cream didn't sound too bad right now. "Sure, Molly. Just let me put my shoes back on."  
  
Molly was a little surprised. She didn't think he would actually go with her; after all, he usually treated her like a kid sister and told her "maybe next time." He looked so handsome in his khaki trousers and dark green shirt. He had grown out of his sweater three years ago. She gave Kit a bright smile as he fished his shoes out from under the bed. "I'll just go tell Mom that we're going. Come on down when you're ready." Molly nearly skipped down the stairs.  
  
Kit shook his head again as he tied his shoes. If only she could be a few years older . . . Kit sighed wistfully. She really had grown up a lot, though. He was still thinking when he reached the bottom of the stairs. Molly leaned against the desk, waiting.  
  
"Bye, Miz Cunningham," he said. "Don't work too hard."  
  
Mrs. Cunningham smiled up at him. "I won't. Take care of Molly, ok?"  
  
"Mo-om! I'm fourteen now. You don't have to baby me like that." Molly turned red all the way up to her ears.  
  
Kit grinned. "Don't worry, Miz Cunningham. I'll watch out for her." He pulled a strand of Molly's blonde hair. She blushed again. Which made him blush in return. Mrs. Cunningham watched the exchange with a smile on her face. Kit was terribly embarrassed that Mrs. Cunningham had witnessed his reaction. He tried to think of a distraction—one finally came to him. "Are you and Baloo going out tonight?"  
  
Molly laughed as her mother turned a brilliant crimson. As her mother stuttered, Molly grabbed Kit's arm and began pulling him toward the door. "Bye, Mom!"  
  
Kit and Molly nearly collapsed with laughter as they closed the door to Higher for Hire. Kit sobered enough to holler a goodbye to Baloo and Wildcat. Molly giggled at the sight of Wildcat being halfway inside of one of the engines. They made their way to the ice cream parlor a few blocks away.  
  
"Does Miz Cunningham really have a thing for Baloo? Or do they just hang out together?"  
  
Molly giggled again. "I think so. I mean, she acts like it. You've seen them together—it's like they've got some kind of secret between them." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I think they're in love."  
  
Kit smiled. "Baloo wouldn't admit it to anyone, either. He's too stubborn."  
  
"Does Baloo like mom?"  
  
"I'm pretty sure. But, there's about 10 years difference between their ages."  
  
"Mom always tells me that age doesn't matter. It's what you feel." Molly's face turned the color of her dress. "B-but, who really knows?" She laughed nervously. Of course, that was what Mrs. Cunningham told her when she found out about Molly's crush on Kit.  
  
Kit was quiet for a moment. Molly began to get more nervous. What if Kit found out? Would he be mad? Would he laugh at her? He probably wanted a girlfriend that was older, anyway. They walked in silence the rest of the way to the ice cream parlor. Molly got her change purse out and began counting coins.  
  
"Don't worry about that, pigtails." Molly grinned for a minute at Kit's remark, remembering the nickname. "I'll cover us."  
  
"Kit, I saved my allowance especially for taking you out for ice cream." Molly became somber as she glanced at a poster on the wall. "We may not have much more time to run around together, with the problems in Eporue right now."  
  
Kit blanched. He stared at the poster of an old bear pointing his finger and the words "Uncle Khan wants YOU" written underneath. "Yeah. It's sounding kinda bad right now."  
  
The two ordered their sundaes. Kit reluctantly allowed Molly to pay. It felt strange to let her pay—the soda jerk looked at them funny for a moment before taking the money. Kit felt a little embarrassed. Did he think they were a couple? Were they a couple? He felt a little dizzy, like he needed to sit down. They took their seats at the bar to watch the sundaes being made. They were quiet as they began to eat the frozen treat.  
  
"I haven't had a Krakatoa Special in a long time," Molly said around a mouthful of ice cream and chocolate.  
  
"Yeah. We've gotta take you to Louie's again." He thought for a minute. "I don't think that Baloo has a delivery next Saturday. Do you think that your mom would let you go with me?"  
  
Molly stared at him. "Seriously?" Kit nodded slowly. "Sure!"  
  
"Alright. I'll ask Baloo about it today when we get back." Molly kept staring at him as he began to eat his sundae again. She then realized her ice cream was melting, so she hurriedly finished. The two were silent as they left the ice cream shop.  
  
"Kit, do you have to go to Eporue?"  
  
Kit looked scared for a moment. He knew the answer, but wasn't ready to admit it yet. "I-I'm not sure, Molly. I don't really know. I had to sign up, but they said I may not have to go."  
  
"I don't want you to go." Molly looked down at the pavement. She had lost the spring in her step.  
  
Kit felt terrible. He stopped to look at her. "Listen, Molly, there is a strong possibility that I'll have to go. They need pilots really bad right now." Molly stared at her feet, tears welling up in her eyes. Kit took her face gently and forced her to look at him. "I promise, if I go, I'll come back. I promise." Molly's lips trembled. She looked him in the eye. They were so close . . .  
  
"You'd better."  
  
Kit couldn't let her go. Molly put her hand on his arm. They stood together for what seemed an eternity, just gazing into each other's eyes. Realization finally hit them as they remembered they were standing on a sidewalk in front of an apartment building. Reluctantly, Kit broke the mood by turning away from her a bit. However, he took her arm in his and they walked, slightly stunned, back to Higher for Hire.  
  
**** 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Almost ten months later . . ._

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"  Rebecca was absorbed in papers once more.

"I think that I might want to be a nurse."

That worked.  Rebecca took a deep breath and laid her papers down.  "Molly, I don't think you're old enough to be thinking about that."

"Mom, I'm fifteen years old.  There's hurt people everywhere.  Cape Suzette may not be attacked, but that doesn't mean that we don't have to take care of others."  Molly paused for a moment.  "They were talking about it at school.  They're offering a program after classes to learn some basics and get some work at the local hospitals."

Rebecca sighed as she stared into her daughter's eyes.  They were still innocent, yet haunting.  She hadn't seen anything yet; Rebecca almost couldn't bear the fact that the innocence would be shattered in the sterility of a cold hospital.  However, she remembered every time that one of Kit's letters was delivered.  Molly's face would light up for a time before she retired to her room to sob.  Rebecca's heart almost broke every time.  She and Baloo would do what they could for each other, but Molly always stayed estranged.  It had only been nine months since Kit went into the Usland Air Force, but each day was like an eternity.  If this program would make Molly happy, it could be for the best.  After all, she was growing up into a woman who needed to make her own decisions.  Rebecca sighed again.  "Molly, I have my doubts.  However, you've always made good decisions in the past."  Her brow furrowed at Molly's excitement.  "Now, listen to me.  If you ever have any problems or change your mind, you're coming out of that program right away, do you hear me?"

"Yes, mom!  Thank you!"  Molly gave her mother a huge hug.  This was the happiest she had been in weeks.  After giving her mom a kiss on the cheek, Molly ran outside to find Baloo.  As Molly closed the door, Rebecca gazed wistfully at the door.  She really was growing up fast.  It wouldn't be long before she took a beau and got married.  Rebecca shook her head and tried to return to her never-ending stack of invoices.

****

_Early 1941_

"Mom!!!"  Molly ran into Higher for Hire, breathless.  In her hand, she held a battered letter.  "It's from Kit!"

Rebecca stood and hurried over to her daughter.  Taking the envelope, she carefully slit it open with her letter opener.  Molly jumped with excitement.  Although several lines of handwritten text had been marked out with governmental black marker, much of the letter was surprisingly readable.  As Rebecca skimmed the letter, she waved Molly out to get Baloo.  

When they came back, Rebecca was in happy tears.  "He may come home soon!"

Baloo's mouth dropped.  "How come?"

"His squadron is almost finished with their ration runs.  If anything, they will at least get to come home for a while!"  She wiped the tears away and began to read aloud.

"Dear Mrs. Cunningham, Baloo, Wildcat, and Molly,

I'm am writing from --------- in ------------------.  I just wanted to write and tell you the happy news: I might have a chance to come home and be with you all again.  Honestly, I am praying harder than I ever have.  Our commanding officer said that our ration runs to ------------------ will be completed sooner than previously thought.  If all goes well, I may be able to come home ----------------------; I can't wait to find out.  I miss all of you and I can't wait to see you again.  9 months is too long to spend away from home.  Everyone here is fine.  ------------------------------.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------.  Anyway, I have to go now, but I will write to you later.  Please give everyone my love.  I'm sorry that you can't write me back—I'll be moving from this base around ------------.  Everything's pretty crazy here, but I'll be fine.  Tell Papa Bear to fly the Sea Duck for me and tell PigTails that I'll buy her a Krakatoa special when I get back.  Mrs. Cunningham, don't get too worked up about the taxes and ration tickets.  (Ha!)  I love you all.  I'll keep in touch.  Don't worry about me.  Keep watching the news reels and stay hopeful.  ------------------------------------------------------------.  Again, I love you.

                                          Love,

                                          Kit"

Rebecca wiped her eyes again as she finished reading the letter.  Molly's eyes glowed as she was handed the precious note from Kit.  It was her job to place them all in a special box on top of the file cabinet.  As her mom and Baloo went to find Wildcat to tell him the news, Molly skipped up to Kit's room.  She spent a lot of time there, with permission and understanding from Rebecca and Baloo.  Once she closed the door, she took another letter out of her pocket.  With the same precision as her mother, she slit open the envelope and took out the enclosed paper.  On this one, nothing had been blacked out—the only sensitive information applied to Molly alone.

                "Molly,

I just want you to know how much I miss you.  As I lay here in the battlefield, I think back to getting ice cream with you that one day.  You were wearing that beautiful pink sundress.  That day really means a lot to me.  I think of you when I fly—I think that you would make a pretty good navigator.  I know that I teased you about it a lot, but I know you can do anything you put your mind to.  I was really impressed when you wrote me about the nursing program—I see a lot over here and it's not nice.  I hope that you are taking good care of yourself and are not getting sick.  I know I'm really writing randomly, but I do miss you a lot.  You're a sweet girl—please don't change while I'm away.  I hope that you're exactly the same when I get back.  I promise we'll take that trip to Louie's after I get some rest.  I will be back soon as I said in my other letter.  I miss you and we'll have a good time when I get back.  Take care of your mom and Baloo—and yourself, ok?  I'll write when I have more time.  I love you.

                                          Love,

                                          Kit"

Molly sighed happily and crushed the letter to her chest.  She curled up on Kit's meticulously made bed and watched the movement outside the window.  It had to be so different from what Kit was seeing at the moment.  She finally moved to the desk to pen another letter, even though she wouldn't be able to send it due to Kit's request.

****

Kit pulled his weather-beaten aviator jacket closer to him.  His uniform simply did not keep him warm enough.  As the wind battered his tent, he warmed himself with thoughts of home.  Baloo taking him cloudsurfing, helping Wildcat repair the Sea Duck, eating one of Rebecca's home-cooked meals, melting into Molly's embrace . . . .  He almost couldn't believe his thoughts.  Molly—the girl he had considered family for so long had become someone different.  Through the short 9 months of correspondence, he marveled at her maturity.  He took a moment to fish her picture out of his jacket pocket.  She was so pretty.  The picture of the now fifteen year old was already faded, but her eyes still shone through the shades of black and white.  Kit lay back on his makeshift pillow, staring into the eyes he knew were a dark brown.  Although the light filtering into the tent was limited, he could still imagine the sun glinting off of her golden hair.  Closing his eyes, he was able to take a short nap before the next run.

****


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Mid-1941_

Baloo landed the Sea Duck with precision.  "I still wonder why Louie insisted I bring you gals," he pondered aloud.

Rebecca shrugged.  "I honestly can't imagine, Baloo."  She gently woke Molly.  "We're here, honey."

Molly yawned and brushed the few tangles out of her shoulder length curls.  Since starting the nursing program, she'd gotten much less sleep than she needed.  Checking her reflection in a small mirror, she groggily followed her mother and Baloo into the bustle of Louie's.  As she entered, she stopped in her tracks.  His back was to them, but the stance was the same.  Her voice was a whisper.  "Kit?"  As Baloo and Rebecca turned to look at her, the young man turned to look at the trio.  Molly felt her eyes fill with tears as she rushed into his arms.  All Rebecca and Baloo could do was look on with astonishment.  A few seconds later, Kit and Molly found themselves crushed in hugs by the two older bears.  Hugs and several tears of joy later, they pulled away from each other; Baloo held Rebecca's arm to keep her steady while Molly followed them to a private booth, staring wide-eyed at Kit.  Louie sauntered over to the booth, a proud grin on his face.

"So, whatcha think, cuz?"

"Louie, how'dja ever keep it a secret?!"

Louie chuckled.  "It took work, my man.  What'll y'all have?"  He flipped out a small notepad and pen.

"Two Krakatoa Specials, at least, Louie."  Kit gave Molly a secret smile as she blushed.  Now fully awake, she was still brushing tears from her eyes.

Baloo and Rebecca shakily ordered full meals—they were still in shock over finally seeing Kit again in the fur.  "Kit boy, we're—we're real glad you're back."  Baloo was near tears as he spoke.  He leaned over the table and gave Kit a squeeze on the shoulder.

Kit, seeing Baloo's fatherly gaze, got a little choked up as well.  "Gosh, Papa Bear.  It's good to be back."  His bright look faded a touch, however.  "Unfortunately, it's only for five days.  Then the squadron is heading back out to Eporue—we've got some more ration boxes to drop."  He shook his head, troubled by the memories of the more recent runs.  Rebecca noticed and changed the subject.

"So, what are you planning to do on these liberty days?"

Kit blushed, a little taken aback.  He had thought about it constantly, but wasn't sure how Rebecca and Baloo would react.  "Well, Miz Cunningham, I want to try and get in touch with the old gang, you know, Ernie and Oscar and the guys, see if any are still around."  He paused, and glanced toward Molly, who gazed back into his dark eyes.  "And, if it's ok with you, I'd like to take . . . Molly dancing one night."

Rebecca blinked her eyes in astonishment.  "Well, Kit, I think that Molly would be the one to answer your offer."  She gave Molly a motherly, knowing smile.  "But it's fine with me."

Baloo's eyes widened as he looked at the two young bears sitting across from him.  He looked back at Becky, who just fluttered her eyelashes at him.  He returned the flirtation by giving her a lopsided grin as he reminded himself that he would never understand the mother-daughter relationship.  Not that he wanted to, anyway.  Louie's band struck up a rousing tune.  "Miz Reee-becca, may I have this shimmy?"

"I would be delighted to join you, Baloo."  Becky actually blushed, much to her daughter's pleasure.  They excused themselves and took to the dance floor.  As they danced, Kit and Molly took a moment just to drink in the sight of the other.

Molly could hardly breathe as Kit's eyes searched her face.  "I—I can't believe you're really here," she whispered.  Her eyes welled up with tears once again.

"Believe it, Molly."  He took her in a warm embrace.  Molly inhaled the sent of his worn aviator jacket, vowing to never forget the welcoming scent of the young pilot.  In turn, Kit breathed deeply of the touch of perfume that Molly used, the aroma of her hair, the powder that she wore lightly on her face.  Begrudgingly, they pulled from the embrace to look at one another.  Kit gently touched Molly's cheek.  Molly shivered at his touch, feeling warmth running up her back.  Kit felt his own tears stinging his eyes as he caressed her cheek.  Molly reached up with a gentle hand to wipe them away.

"Hey," she murmured.  "It's ok."  She took a deep breath before her next words.  She finally felt bold enough to speak her heart.  "Kit . . . I—I love you."  The words came out slowly, but certainly; they had only been spoken in the letters and in her dreams.  She had never before been so forward with any male, but felt that it was right with Kit.  She searched his eyes for a reaction.

Kit seemed to melt into the booth.  The tears began to openly flow.  "Molly, I love you too.  I have for . . . a long time."  He swiped at the tears with the arm of his jacket.  "I'm just . . . ." He broke off, trying to stifle an honest-to-goodness sob.

Molly's heart surged.  "Kit, I understand that you have to go back."  Tears pricked her eyes as well.  "It doesn't change what I feel."  She furrowed her brow just a touch.  "Does it change what you feel?"

Kit swallowed some of his tears.  "Not at all."  Molly was taken aback by his forcefulness.  He held her by the shoulders.  "Nothing could change that."  

From the dance floor, Rebecca and Baloo were subtly watching Kit and Molly.  "Beckers, why didn't you just tell me that Molly had a thing for Kit?"

Rebecca chuckled.  "I thought it was obvious, for one thing.  Another thing, a mother never betrays the trust of her daughter.  Molly asked me not to tell anyone that she had feelings for Kit, so I didn't."

Baloo pouted.  "I wonder why Kit never said anythin' to me."

Rebecca patted his shoulder after a dramatic spin.  "He's a young man, Baloo.  I didn't think that men were so open with their feelings."  She squeezed the hand that she held.

Baloo's arm tightened around her waist as he looked away, embarrassed.  "Well, I guess that we men aren't real good with words all the time.  You gals are better with all that mushy stuff."

"Mushy stuff?"  Rebecca pretended to be indignant, which was difficult as Baloo dipped her.  She then winked at him and dropped her voice under the music.  "I thought that you liked that 'mushy stuff' the other night."  Baloo's face turned beet red, and Rebecca knew that she had won.  They finished the dance in relative silence, only exchanging smiles.  As they returned to the table, Rebecca and Baloo couldn't help but notice that Kit and Molly never took their eyes off of each other.  Even when the food arrived, the pair could hardly tear themselves away to enjoy the sparkling ice cream specialty.  It was comical to watch Kit try to converse with Baloo about airplane specs with his attention totally consumed by the beaming young beauty.  Everyone finished his or her meal, thanked Louie for everything, and went on their way to the Sea Duck.  Kit had thought ahead, and had simply told the liberty transport to drop him off at Louie's so that he could fly back home with his family.

On her way to the Sea Duck, Rebecca felt a little awkward.  She had been navigating for Baloo, but felt that Kit would want to resume his post for old times' sake.  As much as she tried to deny it, she felt a little jealous for the place that Kit held in Baloo's heart.  She knew that it wasn't much different from the relationship that she and Molly had, but it still bothered her that Baloo wouldn't open up to her.  She paused before reaching the plane.

"Kit?"

"Hm?"  He waited for her with Molly close by his side.

"Um, I was just wondering . . . if you would like . . . to navigate home."

Kit felt a tug on his arm, and he glanced over at Molly.  His improved night vision saw her discretely shake her head.  "Nah, Miz Cunningham.  I'm feeling a little tired, and I'll have time to spend with Baloo tomorrow.  Besides, I haven't seen you navigate; I'll bet you've really gotten good."  He gave her a charming smile.

"Of course, Kit."  She tried not to show her relief.  "If you'd like to take a little nap before we get home, that'll be fine.  Molly slept on the way here herself; that nursing program—" she broke off as she saw Molly's look.  

"Come on, folks!  Baloo's taxi service is waitin'!"  Baloo waved his arm at the three.  They hurried over as Baloo began to prep the engines.  "You two can, uh, strap down in the back."  Rebecca was a little taken aback by his not offering Kit the navigator position, as well as suggesting that both younger bears stay out of the cockpit.  Rebecca didn't have any questions about Kit's intentions, but still gave Baloo a questioning look.  He didn't even glance her direction as she got into the plane and began running a few pre-flight checks.  Kit and Molly made their way into the cargo section of the plane where Baloo had installed a small couch for the comfort of extra passengers—another one of Rebecca's ideas for passenger excursions.  As the door swung shut and Rebecca finished her pre-flight checks, Baloo took off into the still night sky.

Rebecca sat in silence for about five minutes before giving in to her curiosity.  "Um, Baloo?"

He fidgeted in his pilot seat a moment before answering.  "Yeah, boss lady?"

She gave him a wry grin.  "I thought that I told you that you didn't have to call me that anymore."

She finally saw something of a smile on his face as he glanced over to where she sat.  "Yeah, I guess you did."  He sighed and flipped on the auto-pilot.  He stared out of the windshield at the stars ahead of them.  "Becky . . . Rebecca.  Uh, I guess you're probably wonderin' why I sent the kids to the back."

Rebecca was a little shaken by his serious attitude.  "Well, Baloo, I know that you have a reason.  Do you want to talk about it?"  She lay a gentle hand on his unmoving arm.

Baloo jumped a little at her touch; he wasn't used to Rebecca making the first move, but it steeled his nerves a little more.  He softened and finally turned to look at her.  He noticed her worried face, and smiled.  "Becky, calm down.  It's nothin' bad."  She gave a relieved sigh of breath that neither had noticed she was holding in.  "It's just . . . seein' the kids together, so happy."  He paused again, a little unsure of what he was going to say next.  "Becky, what I'm tryin' to say is that . . . I mean, with you . . . it's like . . . ."  He stopped, running a hand over his face.  He hung his head as Rebecca took his hand in hers.  At this movement, he looked up into her eyes.

Even though they were constrained by the safety belts, Rebecca leaned toward him.  "Baloo, I understand."  She smiled and lowered her voice to a whisper.  "I feel the same way."

Baloo wasn't sure if he had heard her over the Sea Duck's engines.  "You . . . you feel the same?"  A hopeful look crossed his face.  Rebecca nodded, her figure cloaked in the darkness of the cockpit.  Baloo brushed away a tear with his free hand.  They sat in silence for quite a while.  They had certainly come a long way from the early days of bickering over cargo runs and failed business propositions.

Back in the cargo area, Kit and Molly made themselves as comfortable as possible while strapping themselves to the small couch.  "When did Baloo put this in?"

Molly laughed.  "Just a few weeks ago.  I think that Mom got some idea in her head, so Baloo put in this thing.  I'm not sure what it was for, but it's pretty nice."  They settled against each other, bathing in the other's presence.  

"So, what's up with Baloo and Miz Cunningham?"

Molly grinned.  "Your guess is as good as mine.  They've gone out a couple of times . . . well, really, at least once a week.  They just go to dinner or to business things of Mom's, but I wish they'd do more.  I want Mom to be happy."

Kit slowly put his arm around Molly.  "Like we are?"

Molly blushed and nodded.  "I still think that they're in love, but they're too stubborn to do anything about it."

"Maybe that's why we're back here."  Kit winked.  Molly giggled.

"You could be right."  They gazed into one another's eyes and became serious again.  Molly's feelings overwhelmed her.  "Kit—"

"Shh—don't say anything."

Molly could hardly believe it as Kit pulled her closer into his arms.  She nestled her head against his strong chest as he softly stroked her blonde hair.  She could feel a tear or two drop onto her head.  Holding him tight, she could hear his heart beating.  It was the most comforting feeling she had ever known.  "Molly?"  She looked up in response to his whisper, pulling away from him slightly.  "I'm—I'm so scared."

Molly cradled his face in her hands.  "Oh, Kit."  Her voice had lowered to a whisper as well.  "There's nothing to be afraid of."

Kit held her tenderly.  "Molly, you're a nurse.  You see what happens to the unlucky . . . ."  Molly blanched and he stopped himself, but allowed the tears to come.  "I want to make sure that I . . . that I come back to you."  He closed his eyes and shivered.  Molly stroked the side of his face, wiping away tears.  He opened his eyes to stare into the brown depths.  

Molly's gaze was intent.  "Kit . . . I love you.  Forever, no matter what happens to you."

Kit shook his head.  "Molly, I'm almost six years older than you.  I don't want you burdened with me if . . . if something happens out there.  Molly, you know as well as I do that I could come back . . . without a leg, or arm, or . . . worse.  You're so young—"  He couldn't continue.  He pulled her back into his embrace.

Molly moved her head up to whisper into his ear.  "Kit, I don't care about how much older you are or how much younger I am.  Remember what I said when we went to get ice cream that time?  Age doesn't matter when it comes to love.  That's what I meant then, and what I mean now.  And I'll love you even if the worst happens.  I could never love another.  Please know that."  She also began to weep softly.  Just when she thought that she needed his arms around her the most, he began to pull back.  She looked up at him in surprise.  He held her face lightly in his hands and lowered his lips to hers.  A shock ran through her at the warm touch of his lips.  Molly closed her eyes as she fully experienced her first kiss. Their tears mingled; they remained linked for quite a while.  It was Kit who ended the intimate moment.

"Wow," he breathed.

Molly could only look at him in pleasant astonishment, her lips slightly parted.  She still held him, her arms around his back.  He placed his arms around her as well.  Unhurriedly, Molly pulled Kit down for another, more intense kiss.  Once they separated, both were breathless.  Molly, her cheeks still rosy pink from this experience, snuggled close to Kit.  They sat, wordless, for the rest of the flight, reveling in their newly expressed emotions.  Exhausted both physically and mentally, the couple fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

****

The early morning sun sparkled on the waters of Cape Suzette.  The gentle rocking of the plane and the singing buoys brought Kit back to his senses in a flash.  He awoke with a start, looking around frantically.  It took a moment to realize where he was and that there were no sounds of artillery surrounding him.  He settled back with a sigh, curling his arms tighter around Molly's still sleeping form.  He couldn't believe that Rebecca and Baloo had left them there all night, but was thankful.  He had not slept peacefully in a long time.  For once, no nightmares had plagued his slumber.  Molly stirred in his arms and her brown eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning, pigtails."

Molly smiled; even the old embarrassing nickname couldn't ruin what she was feeling.  "Good morning."  She yawned.

"Sleep well?"

"Mm-hmm."  As she stretched, it dawned on her where they were and what they had done.  "Kit, did Mom and Baloo leave us in here?"  She looked worried and a little ashamed.  What would happen if anyone knew that she had spend the night with a man?  Even though it had been perfectly innocent, the times still frowned on men and women spending a night together, especially wrapped in each other's arms.

"I guess so."  Kit unbuckled his safety belt and peered out of a window of the Sea Duck.  Much to his surprise, Baloo and Rebecca were sitting on the dock, dangling their feet in the water—and still wearing the same clothes they had been the night before.  "Molly, you're not going to believe this."

"Let me guess."  She unbuckled herself and joined Kit at the window.  "Mom's been like that lately—not worrying about what people think of her and Baloo."  She squinted her eyes to look closer.  "Are they holding hands?"

"Sure looks like it."  Kit chuckled.  He gave a yawn and a stretch and straightened his uniform.  "Let's go say hello."  He impulsively grabbed Molly's hand, fondly gazing at her rumpled appearance.  Her blonde curls were mussed and her light gray and rose cap-sleeved dress was slightly wrinkled.  However, her eyes shone and her lips and cheeks were a delicate pink.  Kit had never seen her look more beautiful.

Molly gave his hand a firm squeeze before following him out of the Sea Duck.  In his uniform and aviator jacket, he was the most handsome man that she had ever laid her eyes on.  She almost could not believe that he returned her feelings.  She was the happiest girl in Cape Suzette.  Well, besides one other girl.

Rebecca and Baloo were snuggling on the dock, watching the early morning waves.  Rebecca was still wearing her black linen full-skirted dress with black gloves and Baloo was still wearing his yellow flight shirt; a scruffy bomber jacket lay on the dock next to the couple.  Their toes were lapped by the surf as they quietly talked.  Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Kit and Molly.

"Mornin' cupcake, lil' britches," Baloo called.

"Mornin', Papa Bear."

"Good morning, Baloo, good morning, Mom."

"Good morning, Molly and Kit.  Did you, ah, sleep well?"  Rebecca gave a little splash with her toes as she spoke.

Molly blushed a bright crimson.  Kit flashed a grin at Baloo.  "Yes, thank you," Kit answered, kneading his neck.  "It sure beat sleeping on one of those old cots out in the field."

"Are they still usin' those old cots we had in the Great War?"

Kit nodded.  "I think so, Papa Bear.  They're pretty bad."

Rebecca wrinkled her nose.  "They're still using supplies from almost 25 years ago?"

Kit sat down close to the older bears, making room for Molly.  "They sure are, Miz Cunningham.  We're running pretty low on supplies, so we're having to really cut back on new things.  Especially when they think that something old can still be used.  At least we're not like one of the other squadrons."  He made a face.  "They don't even have enough cots for each pilot—they take turns every night on who gets to sleep in the cot."

"That's terrible!"  Molly was horrified.

"I know, Molly, but that's the way war is."  Kit fell silent as they all took a moment to think about what horrors make war what it really is.

Molly looked at her watch.  "Gosh, I'd better get home—I've got to get to the hospital before nine."

Kit looked at her in surprise.  "But it's Saturday.  I thought this was just an after-school thing."

Molly looked a little uncomfortable.  "Well, I've been taken on as a nurse's assistant; they want me to get more experience."  She brightened.  "The doctors are saying that I've got a lot of potential in medicine!"

"That's great, cupcake."  Baloo squeezed her shoulder.

Rebecca beamed.  "That's my smart young lady."  She straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat.  "Before you go, Molly, there's something we want to tell you."  She glanced over at Baloo, who in turn became a little nervous.

"Well, Beckers—I mean, Rebecca and I . . . are planning on getting' hitched."

Molly let out a little squeal as Kit shook Baloo's hand in congratulations.  "Mom, Baloo, that's great!"  She hugged them both tightly.  "Gosh, I've been waiting for this!"

Baloo looked surprised.  "You have?"

Rebecca hugged Baloo.  "We all have, Baloo."  She looked lovingly into his eyes.  "Especially me."

Kit and Molly exchanged knowing glances and laughed quietly.  "Well, as wonderful as this is, I've got to get to work!"  Molly jumped with excitement, her hands clasped.  "This is just too great!"

Rebecca's smile radiated love to her new family and to her only daughter.  "Kit, would you mind walking Molly home?  I'd feel better if she had an escort, and I'm going to stay around here with Baloo for awhile."

"Sure thing, Miz Cunningham."

"Call me Becky."

Kit grinned.  "Come on, Molly.  Let's get you home."  They began walking hand in hand toward the Cunninghams' apartment building.

Baloo slung his arm around Rebecca.  "So, what do you think about our kids?"

Rebecca smiled a slow smile.  "I think they'll have beautiful children."

****

Kit waited in the living area of Rebecca and Molly's apartment while Molly showered and freshened up.  He walked around the room, drinking in the details and discerning what had changed in the past almost 10 months.  There did seem to be more pictures of Baloo around, as well as a larger print of the picture that Molly had sent him.  He took it off of its shelf and held it gently in his hands.  He didn't even see Molly come in behind him, dressed in her white dress, her hair pulled back in a lacy white ribbon.

"Kit?"

"Oh, Molly."  He replaced the picture and looked her over.  "Geeze, no picture could ever capture what I see here before me."

Molly smiled lightly and fiddled with her ribbon.  She looked down in an unexpected feeling of uncertainty.  Kit's smile turned into a look of concern.  "Molly?"

"Kit, I—" She shook her head.  "No, never mind."

Kit walked over to her and took her tenderly into his arms.  "What is it?"

She looked at him, her lips now trembling.  "I'm just . . . afraid that . . .you think I'm too young for you."  Although Kit vehemently shook his head, she continued.  "I just don't want you to fall for some older, more experienced woman."

"Molly, I don't want some older, more experienced woman.  I want _you_.  I've always wanted you."

She looked up into his eyes, this time with a teasing grin.  "Even when you were twelve?"

He looked at her in mock horror.  "Gosh, I thought you had cooties then, Miss Danger Woman!"  He tickled her under her ribs, making her shriek.  All of a sudden, he enveloped her in a huge hug.  She allowed herself to relax against his strong frame.  Everything just felt so right for both of them.  Kit suddenly pulled away from her.  "Molly, seriously.  Please, just know that I love you."  He took a deep breath.  "But today, when you go in, just take a moment . . . and understand that one of those wounded could be me."  Molly looked away, but he turned her face to look at him.  "I don't want to scare you, but it could happen very soon.  It's . . . terrible out there."  Kit's face turned a sickly shade of remembrance.  "And it's getting worse."

Molly dropped her voice and her gaze.  "Kit, I know.  I talk to those men . . . most aren't much older than I am."  She lifted her eyes to his.  "But if something happens, remember that I won't care.  I deal with it every day.  I can . . . deal with it forever if we have to."  She pulled him close.  "Kit, you're always here in my heart."

"Same here, Molly.  You're with me out there in the field, in the air.  You keep me going."  They allowed a few desperate tears to fall before Molly glanced at the clock. 

"I'd better get going."

"I'll walk you there."

****

That day on rounds, Molly forced herself to think about what Kit had mentioned.  As she gazed into the faces of the wounded and traumatized, she tried to picture Kit's face in place of the soldiers that she attended.  Once, she almost got sick, but retained her cheery attitude.  Around noon, however, an alarm sounded in the hospital—several more men were being brought in who needed emergency assistance.  Molly ran down the hall to her assigned station to help with the victims.  At once, she saw a familiar face.

"Ernie?"

The only answer was a groan—sure enough, it was one of the former Jungle Aces and one of Kit's best childhood friends.  She grabbed a roll of gauze and began mopping up blood.  A doctor came to assist and looked over the young man.  

"He appears to have been shot in the abdomen and lower chest region," commented the doctor.  "I can't believe they got him here in this condition."

Molly spoke between wrapping the more superficial wounds.  "I guess it's lucky that Cape Suzette is one of the closest airstrips to Eporue on Usland soil."

The doctor shook his head.  "I don't think that it'll be lucky enough for this soldier."

Molly gasped in horror.  "But doctor—you can save him!"

The doctor shook his head as he checked Ernie's blood pressure and heart rate.  "Not this time, nurse."  He wrote something on the clipboard.  "And we've got to save the morphine we have for those who are going to need it.  Go on to the next patient."

Molly stood by Ernie as the doctor moved away to speak to the next nurse.  Tears filled her eyes as she saw Kit's best friend loosing strength and hope.  For the first time, she could see Kit's face truly imposed upon Ernie's pain filled grimace.  Bile filled her throat and she resolved herself to do everything possible for Ernie.  Oh, how could she tell Kit?  Ernie suddenly let out a pain filled scream.

"Keep that patient quiet!"

Molly shot the doctor a scathing look.  In all the confusion, she was able to grab a syringe of morphine and expertly injected it into Ernie's leg.  He quieted considerably and almost regained lucidity.  A look of recognition came into his eyes, but he still appeared confused.

"Nurse?"

Molly leaned down to hear his strained whisper.

"Do me a favor?"  She nodded.  "Find the Jungle Aces and tell them that the mission is over."  Molly's eyes brimmed with tears.  Ernie took a struggling breath; his lung had probably been punctured by the bullet.  "Tell 'em . . . Kit's in charge now."  One last breath, one last gasp, and Ernie's eyes, although open, would never see again.  Molly stared, transfixed; she gently closed Ernie's still-staring eyes.  Pulling the sheet over his head, she thought again of Kit.  Her throat constricted.  As hard as she tried, Molly could not pull herself away from her thoughts.  Fortunately, she wasn't called on for the rest of the day.  She was still standing by Ernie's bedside when her shift ended four hours later.

"Miss Cunningham?"

Molly looked up, jolted from her reverie, to see another nurse calling her name.  "Yes?"

"You have someone here to pick you up.  A young man."

Molly begrudgingly left Ernie to meet Kit.  As soon as she caught sight of him, she dissolved into tears.  He caught her in his arms.  "Hey, what's wrong?"

She sniveled hard and tried to control herself.  "You might want to sit down."  They sat down on the steps of the hospital.  "Kit . . . Ernie's in there."

Kit's eyes brightened.  "Ernie!  Wow!  I haven't talked to him in two years!  Can I go see him?  Is he ok?"

Molly's lips trembled and her eyes let loose another flood of tears.  "No, Kit.  He's not ok."

Kit's eyes searched her face.  She nodded.  "Oh no."  He put a hand to his mouth.

"Oh, Kit.  I'm so sorry.  I tried to save him, but—"  She pulled him into a tight hug.  They sat there on the steps of Cape Suzette Memorial, sobbing together.

****

Sunday and Monday melted away for the young couple, who spent as much time together as possible.  They were even able to go out with Baloo and Rebecca to celebrate the engagement on Monday night.  Kit marveled at Baloo actually wearing a tie—it was almost unnerving to see the large bear in semi-formal dress while still looking pleased.  In fact, Baloo looked very nice with a light blue shirt, navy blazer, and a blue and gold tie.  Rebecca wore a stunning royal blue sleeveless velvet gown, a dress only Molly had seen (and had helped choose for the occasion).  Kit opted to wear his nicer uniform, and Molly wore an elegant but modest gown the shade of spring grass.  She wore her hair down, which Kit liked much better than the more severe look of the ponytail she wore for work.  The two couples could have taken the breath away from any onlookers.  No one would have taken Molly for a fifteen year old.  Not only did she look older, she felt older—and it showed in her eyes.  In the past two days, she and Kit had grown so much closer together—so much that even Rebecca and Baloo were surprised, but not alarmed.  After all, their own romance had blossomed after only a few months.  The dinner turned out to be quite expensive; in fact, they had to use several of their precious ration stamps.  But the occasion was worth it.  Kit would come to recall that evening many times on his future ration runs.  That night, Kit walked Molly home; Rebecca had stayed behind at Higher for Hire to finish up some invoices and to innocently stay with Baloo for a little longer.  They paused at the door of the ritzy apartment; Molly wasn't sure if it was appropriate to invite Kit inside, but finally did anyway.  The two made themselves comfortable on the couch.  

As they snuggled together, Molly couldn't put Kit's leaving out of her mind.  "Kit, do you have to leave on Wednesday?"

Kit shifted to face her, his expression downcast.  "I'm afraid so, Molly.  There's more runs to do—we've got to help those poor people.  There are so many with no food, no homes . . . ."  He shook his head.  Molly held his hand tightly.  "Molly, I can't let those people down.  I can't let Usland down.  Please remember after I leave that I'll do everything to come back to you."

Molly smiled a small smile.  "I know.  And I'll be looking forward to it.  I'll be praying for you every night."  She caressed Kit's cheek.  He caught her hand in his and held it with a strong grip.  His eyes and tone hardened a fragment.

"Molly.  Are you sure you want to wait for me?"

Molly's eyes widened.  "Kit, of course I am."

"I mean, it might be a long time.  And you're . . . you're . . . "

"Just a kid."  Molly twisted away from him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"No, Molly.  That's not what I meant."  He gently took her chin in his hand and turned her head to face him before he continued.  "It's just that . . . well, I'm not sure you'll be able to deal with . . . what I'll be like."

"Kit, I don't understand."

"Molly, you've talked to those men in the hospital.  You've heard them screaming in their sleep . . . ."  He shuddered as her teary gaze watched his every move.  His voice softened.  "Molly, I don't want you to have any burdens that you're not ready for—I don't want to . . . keep you up every night because . . . I can't sleep, or because I've had another nightmare."  He finished, gauging her reaction carefully.  He'd heard too many stories about military men going home and their wives leaving them because the wife couldn't deal with the sleepless nights and the helpless feelings.

Molly was shaken, but not defeated.  "Kit, I'll hold you every night until you fall asleep.  I'll let you know that everything is alright.  I'll be here for you."  She blushed as she realized that they were talking about the future—and the possibility that they would follow the path of Baloo and Rebecca.

Kit was not fully assured, but her answer had satisfied him for the time.  "Molly, I—I don't want to rush into anything . . . but I want you to know, when I come back for good, I'd—I'd like to have you still be in my life."

Molly kissed him gently on the cheek.  "I'll be here waiting for you."

"That's all I need to know."  He warmly kissed her cheek, then her lips.  "Molly, I don't have a ring or a lot of money, but when I come back, will—"

"Shh.  Kit, you know my answer.  Please, don't worry about a ring, or money, or anything of the sort.  But let's just wait until we know for sure that this . . . that this is going to be . . . ok."

Kit was a little hurt, but he understood.  After all, she was only fifteen!  "What about when you turn sixteen?  I'll surely be back by then."

Molly's eyes shone.  "I'll be counting the days."

They shared another warm, passionate kiss before Kit left the apartment.  Molly sat alone on the couch, feeling more lonesome than ever.  It wasn't long before her mother came in.

"Molly?  You're still awake?"

"Yeah, Mom."  At the sight of her mother, she burst into tears.  Rebecca caught her in a warm motherly hug.

"Molly, honey, what's wrong?  Has Kit . . . "

"No, Mom."  Molly tried to tell her mother between sobs.  "Mom, Kit . . . I think Kit . . . wants to marry me."

Rebecca let out a relieved sigh.  "Oh, Molly!"

"And I'm afraid . . . "

"Of?"

"Of him not being able to come back . . . or him finding another woman . . . or people saying I'm too young . . . ."  The sobs came more than ever.

"Molly, honey.  He'll find a way back to you if he loves you as much as I think he does.  And don't worry about any other women!  You're the most beautiful girl he's ever laid his eyes on."  Rebecca brushed the strands of Molly's hair away from her face.  "And you know how I feel about the age difference.  With anyone else, I might have something to say about it . . . but, Kit . . . he's like a son to me already!  I even feel comfortable trusting him with you—I always have.  Honey, it's ok.  And don't worry about what others might say—it's just that they're jealous."

"Oh, Mom, no one's said anything.  I—I just worry."  Molly tried in vain to stifle her cries in her hands.

"I know, honey.  I know."

They sat down on the couch and rocked each other until streaks of dawn filtered into the room.

****

"Kit, this was a wonderful idea!"

"Anything with you is a wonderful idea."

Molly grinned as Kit spun her around the floor.  The Ice Box Club was certainly _the_ place to be if one wanted to go dancing.  Kit was highly impressed at Molly's dancing talent.  Several couples stood back to watch Molly and Kit's performance.  Once the song finished, a smattering of people clapped as the two breathlessly went to find liquid refreshment.

"Gee, Molly—I never thought that I'd have to work that hard to keep up with you!"

Molly laughed gaily.  "Oh, Kit—I always did give you a run for your money.  I thought you remembered my Danger Woman days."  She winked.

"How could I forget?  The colander was just too much."  Kit tweaked Molly's cheek.  They made their way over to a small table near the back of the club.  Although the big band music was loud, it provided them enough privacy to just be together out of the crowd—most of the couples were dancing again to a newer tune.  They sat close, virtually in silence.  "Hey—do you want to get out of here?"  Kit motioned to the smoky club.

Molly was a little surprised; they had only been there for 30 minutes.  Most patrons of the Ice Box Club stayed for three hours.  "Well, sure, Kit—if you want to.  It's—it's really your night, you know."  Kit rose without speaking and took Molly by the hand.  She allowed him to lead her out into the cool night air.  She shivered, rubbing her arms as chill bumps appeared.  Kit noticed, and he carefully placed his jacket around her shoulders.  She snuggled into its warmth, still smelling of the aftershave that Kit had used before their date.  They walked slowly, aimlessly through the still Cape Suzette streets.  The music from the club slowly faded from their hearing as they made their way down to the beach area.  The moon and stars were illuminating their path, shining on the waves and the cooling sand.  Kit made his way close to where Higher for Hire was located, next to where the Sea Duck was gently bobbing in the waves.  He brushed off a piece of driftwood and motioned for Molly to sit.  Still not speaking, she gingerly sat upon the makeshift bench.  Kit followed suit.  He put his arm protectively around her as they gazed out upon the ocean.  The night muffled the noises of the waves, buoys, and night birds.  A peaceful calm surrounded the twosome.  

Molly hated to break the silence, but Kit did it first.  "Molly, I want to sit here like this forever.  I remember, as a kid, I used to come out here when I was thinking about what I was doing with my life.  After the Air Pirates, I was so . . . unsure of myself.  What was right, what was wrong, all of that had to be reevaluated.  I thought about Baloo, and how great it was that he was really my Papa Bear . . . or how mad I would get at him when he would barge into my business.  I thought about Miz Cunningham and how she made it as a businesswoman in the hard times."  Kit paused, still staring out into the ocean.  "And I thought about my future.  Was I ever going to have a wife?  Kids?  A stable home, something I never had?"  He stopped again, obviously considering his next words carefully.

"Tell me more, Kit."  Molly's eyes implored him to continue.  She inched closer to him.

Kit closed his eyes.  "When the war came, I thought that I had to stop thinking about all of that.  I thought that I was just going to become like Baloo—fly a plane for the country, buy a plane of my own with the service compensation, and make a little money running cargo for Higher for Hire, keep it going.  Stay a bachelor."  Kit opened his eyes again, this time to look at Molly.  "You changed that last part, Molly."

Molly felt the heartstrings within her pull sharply.  "Kit, I never thought that you would love me back.  I had this feeling about you since I turned thirteen.  Almost two years went by without you noticing, you still calling me your kid sister.  I never thought I had a chance."  She reached a hand up to stroke his brown hair.  "This all still seems like a dream, one that I never want to wake up from."

"This is no dream, Molly."  Kit reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out a slim, plain gold band.  He stared at it for a moment before speaking again.  Molly's eyes widened.  "Molly, I know you didn't want to talk about it the other night.  And we're not talking about it tonight.  I just want you to have this to remember me by, just something to know that I'm always thinking about you."  He twisted the band carefully in his fingers, still gazing at its glitter in the night air.  "It's no diamond, but maybe one day we can change that."  He looked into her eyes again at last, almost a little sheepishly.  He felt almost as though he were twelve again.

Molly's eyes glistened with tears.  "Kit, this is the most beautiful gift I've ever received.  I only . . . I only wish that something of mine could go with you."  She took the proffered ring and placed it on her left ring finger, feeling the cool metal warm with the contact with her flesh.  It slid on perfectly; somehow, she knew that her mother had been a part of this—the ring seemed awfully familiar.  She suddenly fumbled in her dress pocket, pulling out a small cameo.  "Kit, this was my grandmother's; I keep it with me all the time.  It's a locket," she explained.  Molly gently touched a tiny protrusion, causing the cameo to spring open.  "I thought . . . well, I just now thought that maybe you could put my picture in it to keep it from getting all worn, and you could pin this inside of your pocket so you won't lose it."  She handed the heirloom to Kit, who was shaking his head.

"Molly, I can't accept this.  I know that it's so important to you . . . what if I lost it somewhere over Eporue?"

Molly's voice took on a somber, adult note.  "Then I'll know that you're lost with it."  She looked pointedly into his chocolate eyes.  "Kit, you won't lose it."

The two then lost themselves in a spontaneous, fiery kiss.  Between kisses, Kit whispered words to Molly that he had said so forcefully ten months earlier:  "_I'll come back.  I promise_."  

****


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_The first day after Kit's liberty week_

Kit gently fondled the aged piece of jewelry.  The air in the hold was stuffy, almost suffocating, but Kit seemed oblivious to his conditions.  Lost in thought, he didn't even hear one of his fellow pilots trying to talk to him over the engines of the airplane transporter.  He was shaken out of his reverie by Daniel Scott.

"Hey, Cloudkicker!  Snap out of it!"  Dan grinned as Kit was jostled back into reality.  "I was askin' you a question."

Kit gave Dan a wry smile.  "Sorry; just thinking about home, I guess."

"Where'd ya get that little trinket?"  Dan was a little shocked to see the best pilot he'd ever known actually turn red.

"Oh, it's nothing.  Just . . . a gift."

Dan gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.  "Yeah, and I bet it came from 'just a girl,' too!"

Kit laughed softly.  "You could say that."

"Man, Kit—you're really hung up on some dame, aren't you?"

"Dan, she's not 'some dame.'"  Kit clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back against the bulkhead of the transport, staring off into space.  "She's everything."

Dan's eyebrows lifted in surprise.  "You're not kidding, are you?"

"Nope."

"Wow, Kit-man.  Well, I guess I should be happy for ya."  He gave Kit another punch on the arm.  "She got any friends?"

Kit chuckled.  "I'll try to remember to ask her next time I'm home."

Dan settled back beside Kit.  "So, ya got her picture?"  Kit carefully opened the locket and handed it over to Dan.  "Whoa!  She's some doll!"

Kit snatched the locket back.  "Yeah, and she's mine."  He smiled broadly.  "All mine."

"So, uh, you all serious?"  Kit nodded.  "Gosh.  You're some lucky guy."

"I know."

"I mean, her waitin' around for ya, hopin' ya come back in one piece and all."  Dan shook his head.  "Not many gals who'd do that."

Kit looked a little uncomfortable, a brief thought of Ernie's fate flitting through his mind.  "Like I said," he mumbled.  "She's not just some dame."

"Whooo, you ain't kiddin'.  Last gal I hooked up with dumped me cold 'soon as she learned I was a pilot for Usland.  She didn't want to hear about me comin' home in a box."

Kit stared into the picture's eyes.  "I've just gotta make sure that doesn't happen, Dan.  We can't lose each other."

Dan shrugged.  "Whatever you say, man."  He made a skeptical face.  "Just . . . watch yourself, ok?  I don't want to be the one to tell your gal that you're Razi chow."

Kit finally turned to him with a glare.  "Just drop it, ok?"

Dan held up his hands in a "back off" gesture.  "Hang on, buddy.  Just lookin' out for your best interests."

"Well, don't.  I'll look after myself."  Kit rose angrily and stomped off to another part of the transport, drawing confused and concerned looks from a few other pilots.

"Man, must've struck a nerve," Dan muttered.  He stretched out as much as possible to get comfortable enough to catch some sleep before arriving at the base.

Kit found himself a relatively private section of the troop carrier.  There were no seats, so the floor was the only area to use for seating.  Toward the back, the engines seemed significantly louder.  He clutched his knees to his chest, feeling younger than he was.  Dan's conversation had hit pretty close to home for Kit.  He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the ever present fear of death and dismemberment that he had so often seen in the field.  If Molly had to go through that . . . . /_Stop!_/ he chided himself silently.  Molly was the strongest woman he knew.  He opened up the locket once more, attempting to hide his tears.  He let his head rest on his arm atop his knees.

"Hey, Kit, wanna talk about it?"

Kit looked up in surprise to see a dark Great Dane sitting next to him.  He swiped at a drying tear.  "Oh, hey Randy."

"Listen, Kit, I think I know what you're goin' through."

Kit shrugged shortly and snorted.  "Yeah, you and Dan both."

"Come on, Kit.  Don't listen to that moron.  He don't know nothin'."  Randy tousled Kit's hair like a father.  "Trust me on this one.  I've got a wife and three month old at home.  There's more of us than you think."

Kit furrowed his brow.  "You're a dad?"

Randy smiled proudly and pulled out a small picture.  "This is Judy."  A tiny pup wrapped in thick blankets stared back at Kit.  "I finally got a picture while on liberty.  I hadn't even heard that she'd been born yet.  Eileen's letter hadn't made it to me."  He choked back emotion.  "Kit, you've gotta stay strong.  I'm not real great with advice, but I know that you're a pretty good pilot.  In fact, you're a great pilot."  He ran a hand over his face.  "So I know that you'll be able to get yourself out of a scrape if you've got to.  Kit, just know . . . you're not alone with what you're feelin'."

Kit paused.  "Thanks, Randy.  That—that means a lot."  Randy relaxed a little and gave Kit a knowing smile.

"So, this girl's real special?"

Kit's smile seemed to light up his entire face.  "She sure is."  He pulled out the picture for Randy.

Randy's eyebrows raised and he nodded with approval.  "So, you got a future with her?"  He handed the cameo back to Kit and winked.

"Yeah.  Yeah, I do."  It felt good to tell someone.

Randy gave him a strong pat on the back.  "Good luck, Kit."  He rose, stretched, and walked over to another section of pilots who were playing cards.

Kit almost stuck the locket back into his shirt, but kept it out for a moment longer.  "I love you, Molly," he whispered.  He cautiously placed his most precious possession in the pocket over his heart and carefully pinned it to his shirt.  He sat alone and quiet until the transport landed at the base.

****


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_A few weeks later_

Kit tried very hard to concentrate on the chief's objective for their hardest run yet.  The flights would cross over the no-fly zone of Razi occupied territory and included a high possibility of casualty.  Anti-aircraft fire was their biggest enemy; enemy planes were the second.

"Listen up, gentlemen.  This is the best, most talented squadron in the Usland Air Force.  I don't want to lose any of you to these damned Razis, so you'd better keep your brains workin' under those helmets.  Your focus is to drop the food stuffs over your assigned targets—no foolin' around, no playin' hero.  You're pilots and soldiers, not some kind of idealistic young pups.  I want you to keep thinkin' up there.  Don't do anything crazy!  Keep your focus on your run.  Not the people below or what happened on liberty."  There were stifled chuckles around the briefing room; the general glared at a few pilots who attempted to look innocent.  "Point is, stay alive.  I'll see you in proper attire and ready to pull chocks at 2100 sharp.  Remember that night runs are both your demon and your savior—prepare yourselves.  Dismissed."  The general shuffled his papers into a file and prepared to leave.  The pilots began their usual pre-flight banter; Kit was unnaturally quiet.

"Hey, Kit.  You wanna get a drink before the run?"  Dan thumped Kit on the back.

"Not this time, Dan."  The pair began their walk toward their tents to wait for the run.

"Aw, man.  Don't let that little gal take you away from us!"

"It's not that, Dan.  I just don't think that a beer will help us in an hour."

"Whatever, Kit-man.  I'll be over here with Jones—I've gotta grab a smoke.  See ya in a few."

Kit gave Dan a halfhearted wave as Dan jogged over to a cluster of pilots who were already popping open bottles.  It was customary for some pilots to drink a "last drink" before a run . . . in case they never made it back for another.  Kit didn't need to be reminded that tonight might be his last.  He'd never worried about it so much before; he hoped that it wouldn't cloud his judgment.  Kit was so lost in thought that he almost walked over the general.

"Sir, sorry, sir!"  Kit gave him a crisp salute.  The general reciprocated.

"At ease, pilot."  Kit let his arm drop to his side and stood at ease.  "Listen, Cloudkicker, take care tonight, alright?"  Kit nodded as the general glanced crossly at the drinking pilots.  He gave Kit a friendly half-smile and walked to his officer's quarters.  Kit just stared after him and then looked worriedly at his friends who were raucously making a toast.  Choking down bile, Kit slipped into his tent to write a quick letter.

****

"Whoa!  That was a close one!"  Kit wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.  A burst of fire had just erupted to the right of his plane.  He checked his coordinates for the sixth time.  Still on target.  He dropped his plane to the lower altitude in order to drop the rations.  Another blast, this one closer.  "They're almost as good as the Air Pirates," he muttered.  He flipped the switch to drop the box from his bay.  He sighed with relief as the light turned from red to green and he flipped the switch back to close the bay doors.  As he climbed slowly in order to return to base.  He toggled the radio.  "S-3, this is P-KC.  Drop accomplished.  Over."  The radio hissed for a moment before replying.

"Affirmative, P-KC.  Head home.  S-3 over and out."  The radio was silent in his earpiece once more.  Kit checked his coordinates and compass and began to make his way back to base.  Without warning, Kit felt his heart contract.

A fireball exploded seemingly in his face.  Without thinking, Kit banked hard to the right.  The sky seemed to be burning—and dropping.  "Oh, no," he groaned.  A plane—an Usland plane—was falling from the sky.  The fire was bright enough for him to see the plane spinning, ablaze and totally out of control.  "Oh, God."  The flames flickered just enough for Kit to make out the distinct markings on the individual's plane.  "DAN!!!"  From Kit's altitude, Dan's plane became nothing more than a pinprick of light on the landscape below.  Fighting back tears and the instinct to try to retrieve Dan, Kit hurriedly radioed the base.  He flew almost on autopilot—his hands and feet took over when his brain stopped fully functioning.  Out of habit, he flew with precision and without further circumstances back to the base.  He sat for a long time in his cockpit, shaking and wet with sweat.  He tried to take deep breaths, but his breath came out in quick raspy shudders.  Someone knocked on the glass of the cockpit, scaring him back to where he was.  Another pilot, Jack, was motioning for him to come on out.  Kit wiped away the sweat that stung his eyes, only to find tears instead.  He popped his cockpit open and the fresh air rushed over his body.  He finally made his way unsteadily down to the ground.  Once his feet hit the solid earth, he sat down where he was, still shaking.

"Man, it's ok—you're safe."  Jack crouched next to him.

Kit shook his head slowly.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come.

Cloudkicker, you're fine—it didn't happen to you."

/_It almost did_!/ his mind screamed.  Still, no audible words.

"Man, Kit, snap out of it!"  Jack turned to an officer.  "Lieutenant, get a medic, the general, _somebody_ over here!"  The officer obeyed, even though it wasn't customary for a higher-up to listen to a "grunt."

A medical officer wove his way through the landing strip.  He knelt down beside of Kit and spoke very softly.  "Pilot, my name is Dr. Eller.  Can you hear me?"

Kit nodded.  He stared straight ahead, tears streaming unnoticed down his cheeks.

"Doc, his good pal got blown away up there."

The doctor shot Jack a nasty look.  It didn't do much good to remind Kit of what he had just witnessed.  Instead of making a nasty retort, the doctor just sighed.  "What's this pilot's name?"

"Cloudkicker.  Kit Cloudkicker."

The doctor turned back to Kit.  "Kit, I know what happened.  I know you're upset and afraid.  But you're back now.  There's no more threat.  The run is over."  Kit whispered something that the doctor couldn't quite make out.  "Excuse me?"

"I—I should have done something."

The doctor put a comforting arm around Kit's shoulders.  "Kit, I'm afraid there wasn't anything you could have done."

"I could have warned him.  I could have radioed him.  I should have—"

Dr. Eller shushed him.  "No.  I know how it is up there—"

"NO, YOU DON"T!"  Kit exploded at the doctor.  His hands balled into fists and a rage came into his eyes.  "You weren't up there.  You didn't see the bombs detonating, right, and left, and . . . ."  His fury began to melt away into sobs.  He curled up on the makeshift landing strip, shaking and crying.  He wouldn't let anyone touch him or talk to him.  Finally, Dr. Eller backed off, at a loss as to what to do for the young flier.  Kit, lonely and terrified, sobbed until no more tears would come.  After almost a half hour, Kit was finally able to pull himself together enough to make his way unsteadily back to his tent.  He fell into a fitful sleep, filled with visions of getting swept out of the sky, his own funeral, and Molly being alone for the rest of her life.  

When Kit awoke again the next morning, he felt as though he had never slept.  His eyes were gritty from crying and salty tears had streaked his face.  He made his way to the community wash basin to try to cleanse the night's fears away.  It didn't work.

Morning chow was much more subdued than usual.  Not only had they lost Dan, but another ace pilot as well.  After chow, they were called to a meeting by the general.

The general took a deep breath before beginning.  Several of his squadron were glassy eyed, still in shock from the previous night's death toll.  Two out of ten were gone, KIA.  The first casualties of the squadron.  Although the pilots had seen death in the field, it had never been one of their own.  After almost a year, the group had grown so close that they were almost like brothers.  It was no wonder that this would be one of the hardest briefings the general had ever conducted.

"Men, I know that this is certainly a time of mourning."  Silence filled the room.  Every pilot stared at their feet.  "Just remember—Daniel Scott and Dean Houser did not lose their lives in vain.  The Usland Air Force and its Third Squadron are upholding the freedoms that the people of this land deserve—and those captive souls thank you.  Usland thanks you.  And I thank you."  The general attempted to not lose his composure.  "Your ration run was not a failure.  I am, however, regretful to announce that there will be another run tonight."  The pilots stared at the general in collective astonishment, a few even rising out of their seats.  The general ignored the breach of etiquette.  "I suggest you rest, write some letters, and talk to one another.  If any of you would feel more comfortable talking to Dr. Eller or myself, we will be available after noon chow."  The general began to rush his words.  "Dismissed."

The eight pilots sat together in silence long after the general had excused himself.  It was a long afternoon.

****

Kit forced himself to climb into his plane.  Although not the Sea Duck, he had grown very close to this little plane.  However, just looking at the small flying machine now gave him chills.  It was so small; his mind wandered to thoughts of how the plane would become just a twisted piece of scrap metal if he were ever shot down.  The drop planes were meant to be quick and sleek, not fighting machines.  No guns, no real protective outer covering.  The pilot who flew the ration plane had to be very clever and skillful, neither of which Kit felt.  As he ran his preflight checks, Randy made his way over to Kit who now sat in his plane.

Randy stood on the ground looking up at Kit who refused to meet his eyes.  "Kit, are you gonna be ok up there tonight?"

Kit shrugged halfheartedly.  "I guess I'll have to be."

"Look, if you feel like you're unfit—"

"Kit Cloudkicker is never unfit."  Randy was taken aback by Kit's intensity.

"Listen man, if you ever need to talk again, I'm here."

Kit finally looked into Randy's eyes.  Randy tried not to look away from the old man's eyes in the young man's face.  "Thanks.  I'll probably need it."  Kit gave Randy a humorless smile.  "If I come back."

"Kit, don't start thinkin' that.  You're comin' back—just think about your future wife.  No shame in that—I've got Eileen and Judy on my mind almost every second of a flight."

Kit hung his head.  His shoulders dropped a degree.  "Thanks, Randy.  You, uh, should probably get to your plane."  Randy reached up and gave Kit a fatherly squeeze on his shoulder; he turned away and headed to his own aircraft.  Kit watched him go out of the corner of his eye.  He had no idea how Randy could risk his life while he had a wife and child waiting for him at home.  He shook his head to clear it and closed the cockpit.  He steeled himself, focusing on being ready.

Once the squadron was up, Kit felt a little more relaxed.  His home seemed to be in the air.  He flew by the book, cringing at the explosions in the night.  Never had the Third Squadron been so bombarded.  Half of the squadron gave crackled transmissions over the radio that they were aborting their drops.  The sky was bright with enemy fire.  The anti-aircraft fire was merciless.  Kit focused his mind, made the drop, and began to head back to base, just as he had hundreds of times before.  Just as he was almost out of the zone, a blast rocked his plane.  Kit gritted his teeth as he was flung first to the right, and then hard against the left side of the cockpit, metal and bone colliding with a sickening jolt. It seemed as though fiery hot needles were stabbing his entire left side.  He grabbed the controls as tightly as possible and managed to limp his battered plane back into base, defying every rule of gravity, he thought.  The plane sputtered, almost falling from the sky.  He made it to the landing strip and landed hard, sending more pain jolting through his body.  Several controls appeared to have been fried in the explosion, nearly crippling the aircraft.  However, instincts and fighting adrenaline forced Kit to make decisions he had never made before.  As he popped open the cockpit, medics rushed to his smoking plane.  He coughed in the thick smoke and tried to climb out.  His left arm felt useless.  He coughed again, still trying to get out.  He struggled against his safety harness.

"Stay still!" yelled one medic.  "We'll get you out!"

Kit made an effort to not attempt to leap out of his burning plane.  He allowed the medics to unhook his restraints and pull him out of the wreckage.  The plane looked much worse than Kit thought—no wonder everyone was running over to him.  A few other already landed pilots were spraying the plane's flames with water; the light lit almost the entire airstrip.  Kit closed his eyes as he was lifted from his plane; the heat from the fire felt like it was searing his already tender flesh.  He lost consciousness as he was carried away on a stretcher.  The fire raged behind him.

****

"Kit?  Kit, can you hear me?"

Kit groggily opened his eyelids, his eyes watering in the light.  "Ungh?" he groaned.  His tongue was dry and his mouth didn't seem to want to work correctly.  He felt as though his mind did not inhabit his body.

Randy sat by Kit's cot in the medical tent.  He surveyed the bandaged body with a war-trained eye.  Shrapnel had peppered Kit's entire left side; his left arm was broken and his fur was tinged black on the left side of his back.  They had cut his shirt from his body, leaving him in only his tattered fatigue pants.  Randy held the shirt in his hands.  "Just wanted you to know that I saved this for ya—I know what you've got in there."  Kit was finally starting to lurch back into reality as Randy carefully placed the cut-up folded shirt next to Kit's head.  Kit tried to say something else, but nothing intelligible came out.  Randy chuckled softly.  "That morphine'll do a number on ya, son.  Just lay back, relax, and let it work it magic."  He gently shook Kit's uninjured right hand, which remained limp in Randy's strong grip.  "And you're welcome."  Randy rose and limped away, his leg bandaged as well.

As Kit watched Randy through hazy eyes, he tried to assess what had happened.  Enemy fire, his left wing being blown off of his plane, smoke, pain . . . images flashed through his foggy mind.  He blinked his eyes as rapidly as possible in order to attempt to come out of the morphine-drugged stupor.  A medic came by his bed and did a cursory inspection of Kit's state.

"Hello there, patient Cloudkicker."  He shone a light in Kit's eyes, making them water even more.  "Sorry 'bout that, just part of the exam.  Just trying to figure out if you've got a concussion."

"I—I didn't . . . hit . . . my head."  Kit's voice croaked unnaturally; he felt as though he hadn't spoken in days.

The medic was slightly surprised to hear Kit speaking, but went on with the examination.  "Well, from your other injuries, we weren't sure.  You got banged up pretty bad."  Kit was puzzled.  The morphine dulled his entire body—he couldn't even feel his arms and legs, which gave him a small fright.

"Am I . . ."

'You're going to be fine.  You won't be flying for awhile, though.  The shrapnel cut pretty deep, almost lacerating a few organs.  We got it out, but we're watching for gangrene."  Kit winced; he had seen gangrene cases that were simply hopeless.  Doctors would routinely amputate limbs to attempt to stop the gangrene until they could amputate no more.  He had even heard of a few doctors that amputated limbs to simply avoid the onset of the infection.  "Your left arm was fractured in two places; we can't figure out how you even managed to control your plane with one wing gone and a broken arm.  Of course, you may not have broken it the second time in the air—it might have been in the landing."  The doctor let Kit digest this information as he scribbled something down on Kit's records.  "You'll probably get a medal for this, you know."

Kit managed to give the doctor an incredulous look.  "Wh-why?"

The medic chuckled.  "Of course you wouldn't have heard.  You were one of two pilots who actually made the drop.  Four of the squadron aborted the entire drop; two others made an attempt, but were off coordinates.  You and Randy Williams were the only two who were successful."  He gave Kit a wry grin.  "If you call this successful."  The medic made a sweeping gesture, indicating Kit's wounds before he checked something off and walked away, leaving Kit alone with his thoughts.

****


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

_Another 2 weeks have passed . . ._

"Hello?  Anyone home?"  Higher for Hire's door creaked open.  Rebecca was crouched over a filing cabinet drawer.  At the sound of the voice, she swung around, papers fluttering all over the office.

"Kit?!"  Rebecca ignored all composure, ran, and enveloped Kit in a tight hug.

"Hiya, Miz Cunn—I mean, Becky."  Kit tried to stifle a moan, but it escaped his lips.  Rebecca pulled back, surveying the young pilot.

"Kit!  You're injured!"

Kit's jacket slid off of his shoulders enough to reveal the cast on his left arm.  "Not too bad, really."  He grimaced as he hung his jacket on the coat rack beside the door.

"Oh, honey!"  Rebecca took him by the shoulders gently and looked him up and down.  His frame was much more slender than it had been a month before.  "Kit, what happened to you?"  Her eyes searched his face for answers, but Kit kept them to himself.  His eyes were troubled.  

"Where's Molly?  I'd, uh, rather talk about it with everyone."

"Oh, of course!  Kit, please excuse me . . . I mean, we weren't expecting you, and . . . " her voice trailed off as she looked more intently at Kit.  He had changed somehow in only a month.  Her voice dropped in volume and pitch.  "I'll call her at the hospital; Baloo's making a run, but he'll be back any minute.  I'll get him on the radio."

"If you don't mind, I'm going to my room; I'd like to change out of my uniform, if that's ok."  Rebecca nodded, finally sensing a note of normalcy in his voice.  She picked up the phone and dialed Cape Suzette Memorial, her fingers trembling.  After leaving a message for Molly, she flipped on the radio.

"This is Higher for Hire, calling Baloo.  Baloo, do you copy?"

"Right here, Beckers."  The voice was a bit blurred by static, but was undeniably Baloo's.  "I just finished droppin' off that parts shipment for the ammo place."

As concerned as she was, Rebecca couldn't keep the joy out of her voice.  "Kit's come home."  She grinned as Baloo let out a whoop of joy over the radio frequency.  She glanced around a moment before lowering her voice and continuing.  "Baloo, you need to know—something's not right."  She could almost hear Baloo's frown.

"He's ok—right, Beckers?"  The tension seeped through the radio.

Rebecca sighed, her throat tight.  "I don't know, Baloo.  Just get back here soon, please?"

"Sure thing, Rebecca.  This is Baloo, over and out."

****

Molly couldn't help running to Higher and Hire from the hospital.  Although she had put in nine long, grueling hours, all fatigue was carried away by thoughts of Kit.  Deep inside, however, she was fearful.  She knew by Kit's letters that something had happened, even though he would never elaborate.  She didn't even pause for breath as she flung open the door.  Rebecca and Baloo looked up in mild surprise.

"Where's—where's Kit?"  She tried to breathe normally and ignore the worried looks on the older ones' faces.

"He's in his room, Cupcake."  Baloo was downcast.  "He didn't want to come down."

Molly looked puzzled.  "He didn't?"

Rebecca shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of hurt.  "Maybe if you talked to him . . . Molly, I'm afraid something dreadful has happened to him."  Baloo put his hand on her shoulder and the two exchanged looks of anxiety.

Molly didn't wait for anything more.  She climbed the steps to Kit's room and gently knocked on the door.  No answer.  "Kit?  It's me, Molly.  Can—can I come in?"  There was still no answer.  Molly thought she heard movement; there was a shuffle toward the door before it unlocked and opened in front of her.  She didn't have a chance to react as she was wrapped in the tightest hug she had ever known.  She threw her own arms around Kit, hugging him tenderly in her arms; she noticed that despite the tight hug, a cast covered Kit's left arm.  She tried to retain her composure as she felt Kit's body shaking with tears.  She nestled her head against his chest.  "You came back.  You're home."  Her own tears began to fall, wetting his olive green t-shirt.  They stood nearly motionless for nearly half an hour.  After pulling back, Molly could see the changes in Kit's gaunt face; they reminded her of the hopeless soldiers in the hospital.  She repressed a shudder and followed him to sit on the edge of the bed.  They never lost physical contact as they sat.  "Kit?"

Kit didn't say anything; he just looked at her, his eyes drinking in her lovely face.

"I love you," Molly murmured.

Finally, a slight smile brightened his face.  His voice finally emerged, not much more than a whisper.  "Oh, Molly.  I love you too."

Molly stroked the side of the face, noticing the scarring on his neck that appeared to lead under his shirt.  "Do—um, do you want to tell me . . . what happened?"

Kit's face darkened again.  He looked away, his eyes blank.  "No."

Molly was floored, but recovered well.  "That's fine."  Kit tried in vain to hide his surprise—most everyone else insisted that he tell them the whole story immediately.  He turned his face back to her.

"Is it really . . . okay?"

Molly's tears began to stream down her face as she nodded.  He sighed heavily and took her in his arms once again.  After sharing a brief warm kiss, Kit stood and held Molly's hand as he walked downstairs to see Rebecca and Baloo.

Baloo was glad to see a slight change in Kit's attitude—at least he was showing himself.  "Heya, Lil' Britches."  Kit came over and gave Baloo a hug.  Baloo choked back the extreme emotions that overcame him as he embraced Kit in return.  Kit then turned to Rebecca and gave her a heartfelt hug as well; Molly looked on in curiosity as Kit then took a seat.

"I'm only here on extended medical leave," Kit began.  "I'll be home about a month, then I've . . . I've got to go back."  His voice cracked.  Molly reached for his right hand; he took it gratefully.  The four sat in awkward silence for a few moments.  Kit breathed deeply, steeling himself.  "I know that you want to know what happened over there."

"Now, Kit-boy, if you don't wanna—"

"No, Papa Bear.  It's ok, I think."  Kit entwined his fingers with Molly's.  Tears began to stream down his cheeks as he told them about Dan, the near miss, and the final landing two weeks ago.  Rebecca handed him a tissue from a box on her desk.  She wiped at her own tears as she noticed that even Baloo's eyes were red with unshed tears of his own.  When Kit had finished, his body visibly relaxed.  He sunk deeper into the chair as Baloo put an arm around him.

"So . . . they think you'll be ready in a month to fly again?"  Baloo tried to catch Kit's eyes.

Kit sighed heavily.  "They don't know.  I may have to be assigned to paperwork, telegrams, radio operating."  He gritted his teeth and stifled a curse.

Molly caressed his hand between her own.  "Don't worry about that now.  You've got a few weeks to take it easy."  She saw Kit stiffen his back.  His eyes finally rose to hers, softening as he saw her worry.  He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it felt impossible.

Rebecca tried to lighten the mood.  "Kit, I know you're tired, but how would you like coming over to the apartment and all of us having a nice home-cooked meal together?"

Kit finally managed a slight smile.  "I've been looking forward to it.  I usually have to pretend those rations they serve us in the field are your pork chops just to get them down."

Kit's attempt at humor relaxed all in the room.  Rebecca began to fill Kit in on all the government cargo runs Higher for Hire had been able to fulfill as Baloo just sat and gazed at his boy.  Although Baloo had been through the Great War, he had tried to make himself forget what really happened out there on the front lines.  Although there was no blood relation, he could see himself in Kit's war-glazed eyes.  Not being able to fly—Baloo couldn't imagine anything worse for Kit.  However, Baloo secretly prayed that Kit _would_ be stationed somewhere safer than in the battlefield.  He glanced at Molly, who was also soaking in Kit's presence.  For her sake, he thought; Kit needed to be safe for her sake.

"Beckers," Baloo finally interrupted.  "Why don't we all head on to the apartment—Kit can get a decent shower and change clothes there.  Whadya think?"

Rebecca agreed, and Kit and Baloo began collecting Kit's belongings as Molly called for a taxi to pick them up.  Rebecca began sorting through her ration books, making mental notes of what she could purchase for tonight's dinner.

****

At the apartment, Kit stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel as best as he could.  It was awkward to shower without getting his cast wet, but it was wonderful to have hot water again.  He checked his still healing wounds; he concluded that there was no infection.  The stitches had only been taken out a few days ago.  He pulled on a pair of pants as he looked at the scar the fire had created on the left side of his neck.  He grimaced at the sight.  He then worked his way into a soft cotton t-shirt that he remembered from his days before the Air Force.  It smelled of detergent—real detergent, not of dried sweat covered up with cologne.  He wiggled his toes in the soft carpet and felt very young again.  A knock on the door of the bathroom and a slightly gruff voice forced him back to reality.

"Kit?  Uh, you ok?"

Kit let a smile crease his face; Baloo checking on him.  It was actually comforting.  "Yeah, Baloo.  I'm fine."  Kit opened the door, slightly amused at the sight of Baloo standing in Rebecca's bedroom.

"What?"

"Nothing."  Kit's grin was contagious, though, and Baloo started to chuckle.

"Better get used to it, kid."

"So, when's the big day?"

Baloo shrugged.  "You know Rebecca.  She wants to put it off 'till it's just right, but I'm ready any time."

"Are you really?"  Kit gently elbowed the pilot.  Baloo actually turned a bright shade of pink.

"You know, I think I am.  This old bear's ready to settle down for a spell."  Baloo sighed and looked up toward the ceiling.  "Oh, baby, I never thought I'd say that," he groaned.

It was Kit's turn to chuckle.  He shook his head and made his way out of the master bedroom to the living area.  Molly had also changed out of her nurse's uniform into a cute pair of denim Capri pants and a bright pink blouse.  Kit came up behind her as she was setting the table.  She set down the plates and snuggled against him.  She looked at him with surprise, her nose wrinkling.

"Strawberry?"

Kit looked confused, then realization struck.  "It was all you and your mom had.  I couldn't wash my hair without shampoo."  They beamed at each other, basking in the moment.  Molly kissed him on the cheek and continued setting the table.  Kit made his way over to the couch and sat down heavily.  He listened to Rebecca and Baloo laughing in the kitchen; he watched Molly place the silverware in the proper places.  _It was good to be home._  The thought hit him so suddenly that it was almost painful.  Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched Molly's hands . . . one hand in particular.  The gold band shone around her finger.  He closed his eyes, imagining the future.  A final phase of courtship, the wedding, a home . . . kids.  A real life.  A real family.  A mom, a dad, a wife . . . .

"Kit?  Wake up, hon.  Everything's ready."  Kit felt Rebecca gently shaking him awake.  He must have been more tired than he thought.  He rubbed his eyes with his right hand and shook his head to clear it.  He made his way to the dinner table and let his eyes feast on the offerings.

Rebecca had splurged.  Whipped potatoes with a tiny amount of margarine, green beans, and even . . . 

"Pork chops?!"  Kit's mouth dropped.  "I know you save your ration tickets, but where did you find—"

Rebecca smiled.  "I've been looking for good cuts of meat all over Cape Suzette.  I've made my own contacts."  She handed the platter to Kit.  "Help yourself."  The food continued to make its way around the table until all had their share.  The four were silent as they began to eat, but Kit couldn't help noticing that Molly's head was beginning to drop.

"Hey—are you alright?"

Molly looked a little embarrassed as Rebecca and Baloo looked at her as well.  "Oh, sure.  Just had a long day, that's all."

Rebecca's face took on an expression of motherly concern.  "Molly, honey, you've been working every day for almost a month now.  I think you're pushing yourself too hard."

Usually Molly would snap back at her mother, but she was just too tired tonight.  With Kit coming home so unexpectedly, she hadn't realized just how tired she was.  She knew she needed some down time.  "Alright, Mom.  I'll see if they'll give me some time off."

Rebecca was a little taken aback by Molly's lack of resistance, but assured herself that Kit was a part of it.  She smiled at the two of them, but still felt a tinge of concern.  She reached for another helping of green beans.

****

"Molly?  Time to get up!"  Molly winced at the sound of her mother's voice; sunlight streamed through her window.  She sat up in bed, focusing her eyes on the clock.  Ten o'clock already?  She sprang out of bed and hurried into the kitchen.

"Mom!  Why didn't you wake me up earlier?  I'm late for work!"  She shook her head in frustration and turned to head to the shower.

Rebecca calmly set down the plate she had been drying.  "Honey, I already called the hospital.  I told them-"

"Oh, Mom."  Molly groaned and in a chair at the modest kitchen table.  "How embarrassing.  They probably thought that I was trying to get out of coming in today."

Rebecca shook her head and placed some clean silverware in a drawer.  "They said it was fine—they were actually just about to call and tell you that you didn't need to come in today."

Molly gave her mother a skeptical look.  "Are you sure?"

"Of course, sweetie.  They said that you've been working overtime and they've been worried about you.  Nurse Ross said that she wanted you to get some rest."  Rebecca smiled to herself.  "And she also said that you needed some quality time with your beau."

Molly's eyes widened as she blushed.  "I guess . . . I have been talking a lot about Kit."  She stretched and yawned.  "Thanks, Mom.  I'm sorry that I've been out so much lately."  She sighed.  "I really didn't realize how much I'd been working."

Rebecca sat down next to her.  "It runs in the family, sweetie."  She covered her daughter's hand with her own.  "Molly, I—I just want you to know . . . "  Rebecca stopped, unsure of how to continue.  "I want you to know—that I trust you.  And I love you."

Molly looked very confused.  "Mom, I know you mean well, but what are you talking about?"

"About you and Kit."  Molly blushed again, but Rebecca continued.  "I'm pretty sure you know about where he got the ring."  Molly looked at Rebecca innocently.  "It was my wedding ring from your dad."  Rebecca paused again to gain her composure.  "I wanted you to have it—and I can't think of a more special man than Kit to have given it to you."

"Mom," Molly interjected.  "We haven't talked about anything—"

"I know, hon.  I just wanted you to know—that it was—that it is—all right with me."  Rebecca swallowed joyful tears.

Molly smiled.  "Thanks, Mom.  That means so much to me."

Rebecca cradled her daughter's face with her hands.  "I know that your sixteenth birthday is coming up in a few months.  You're becoming a young lady.  And I want you to know that I'm proud of you."  Rebecca's eyes welled with tears and she pulled Molly to her.  Molly returned the hug with all the strength she had.

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Molly."

"Mom?"  Molly pulled away a bit.  "When _are_ you and Baloo going to finally get married?"

Rebecca laughed softly and wiped her eyes.  "I haven't even thought about a date."

"Why don't you two get married while Kit is on medical leave?  I mean, it's perfect!"

"Now, Molly, I don't want to rush into any—"

"Aw, Mom, you decided ages ago that you wanted to marry Baloo.  I think it's time."  Molly squeezed her mother into another tight hug.  "I can help you pick out a dress, Kit can counsel Baloo . . . "

The two laughed together, the first prolonged and honest laughter they had shared in a long time.  "Honey, why don't you go get dressed?  We'll go out on the town."

Molly cheered at this remark.  "Sure, Mom."  She got up from the table and took a few steps toward the bathroom before turning back.  "Oh, can I call Kit first?  I just want to make sure he had a good night back home."

"Of course."  Rebecca continued to dry dishes.  "If he'd like to join us at some point, he's more than welcome."

Molly carefully dialed the Higher for Hire number.  After a few rings, a sleepy Baloo answered the phone.

"Is Kit awake?"

Baloo mumbled something unintelligible before clearing his throat.  "Uhhh, maybe.  Hold on, Cupcake."  Molly twisted the phone cord until Baloo came back on the line.  "Molly, he's still asleep.  If you want to come back later, it might be better."

"Thanks, Baloo.  Bye."  Molly placed the phone back in the cradle.  "Mom, can we go by there later?"

"I have some work to do anyway, so yes."

"Oh, come on, Mom!  You want me to rest, but you're going to work?"

"I told you—it runs in the family!"

Molly just shook her head, then went to take a shower.

****

Flames.  Explosions.  Pain.

Kit awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat.  He was tangled in his sheets, his arm aching.  He bit his tongue to prevent himself from using the harsh language he had been accustomed to hearing.  He tried to make his body relax, but it was no use.  He finally pulled himself out of bed and padded to the bathroom.  He put the stopper in the bathtub drain and began to run water.  He sank into the bathtub once it was filled, letting the water soothe his body.  His thoughts drifted as he soaked.  There was a knock at the door.

"Yeah, Baloo?"

"Molly called about an hour ago.  Told her you were still sleepin'.  She and Becky are comin' by later."

"Thanks, Papa Bear."  He heard Baloo walk back down the stairs to the main office area.  Kit sighed.  It was so strange not to be with his company, with his battle brothers.  He hoped that the runs were going well without him.  He remembered the remark the medic had made about getting a medal.  He smirked as he washed his battered body; no medal was worth this.  His left arm made it still difficult to bathe, but he did the best he could to wash off the sweat from the night terrors.  The dreams made him nervous; would they ever go away?  Was Molly going to have to live with him not sleeping through the night?  He closed his eyes in shame.  What kind of life were they going to have together with him as he was?  Another knock on the door scattered his thoughts.

"Kit?  Doin' ok in there?"

"Uh, sure.  Be out in a minute."  Kit reluctantly left his bath, allowed the water to drain, toweled off as much as possible, then put on clean clothes.  He ran a comb through his damp hair, then made his way downstairs to join Baloo.

"Doughnut?"  Baloo spoke around a full mouth.  Crumbs showered Baloo's chest.  Kit shook his head.

"No thanks."  Kit sat in the ragged armchair.  He sighed, then breathed in the familiar smells of Higher for Hire.  Jet fuel, oil, stale doughnuts, and Rebecca's perfume.  Nothing had changed.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Lil' Britches?"

Kit shook his head again, cradling his cast.  "Just about how much I missed this place."

Baloo grew somber.  "We've sure missed you, Lil' Britches.  It's good to have you back."

"It's not for good, you know."

"I know."

Silence.

"Papa Bear?"

"Hmmm?"

"What did—what did you do when you got out of the war?"

Baloo ate another doughnut slowly before answering.  "Well, I had the Sea Duck.  My baby was my home.  I docked at Louie's, mostly.  Did some freelance cargo runnin', then made enough shaboozies to start my own business here before Becky came around."

Kit sat for a moment, staring at his arm.  "Oh.  I was just wondering."

"Kit, I've been there.  It's tough comin' home."  Kit looked at him in surprise.  "I know, it's great to be back, but you feel like somethin's missin'."  Kit nodded thoughtfully as Baloo continued.  "Son, you'll learn to fit back in.  It's rough, but you gotta roll with what the world throws at you."  Baloo grinned and winked.  "And you got yourself a sweet little thing here waitin' for you."

Kit couldn't help but to smile at that.  "I know, Baloo."  His face fell again.  "That's what I'm worried about."

"What then?"

"Face it, Papa Bear.  I don't have a house, and the only job I've got here is navigating and flying on your days off.  And that's not going to support us."

"Look, Kit, there's always a place for you here."

"I know.  It's just that—I want to make it on my own, you know?"

Baloo placed a fatherly paw on Kit's shoulder.  "I know."

"And . . ." Kit's voice trailed off.  "Baloo, I love Molly."  Baloo nodded.  "I want to marry her—now, if I could."  He sighed.  "But I have nothing to give her.  We have nowhere to live, no stable jobs . . ."

"Kit, if you had to, couldn't you and Molly . . . never mind, boy.  You've got some time before you have to think about that, doncha?"  Kit nodded reluctantly.  "Besides, Molly's doin' pretty good at that nursin' job.  She'll be fine."

"As long as she doesn't kill herself doing it."

Baloo sighed and squeezed Kit's shoulder.  "Runs in the bloodline, Lil' Britches.  Get used to it."

****


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_One week before the end of Kit's medical leave . . ._

Molly walked down the sterile white corridor of the hospital.  As she turned the corner, she heard a familiar voice call her name.  She was pleasantly surprised.  "Kit!"

"Hey."  He grinned.  "Thought I'd surprise you."  He hugged her gently.  "Notice anything different?"

It didn't take her long.  "When did you get your cast removed?"

"About an hour ago."  Kit gingerly rubbed his left arm.  "It's still pretty weak.  Doc says I'll have to start exercising if I want to fly again."  He shrugged his shoulders.  "Even if I have to do paperwork for a little while, I may be able to start the ration runs again soon."

Molly tried to not let her disappointment show.  If Kit was assigned to a non-combatant position, then he could feasibly be positioned in Cape Suzette.  It was the ration runs that took him away.

"Hey, it's ok," Kit soothed, lifting her chin.  "We've still got this week."  He kissed her on the cheek.

Molly was about to reply when she felt a vibration under her feet.  "Kit-?"

"DOWN!"  Kit dropped to the floor, taking Molly with him.  A few nurses screamed.  A doctor yelled something to another doctor when everything suddenly changed.

Molly felt heat, but nothing else.  A deafening blast shook them.  As she was about to lift her head, Kit pushed her back down against the cold floor of the hospital.  She then felt debris raining down, stinging her legs through the nurse's uniform.  A brick grazed her head.  She felt herself starting to cry.  Kit pulled her closer, trying to shelter her with his body.  She felt him tremble.  After what seemed like an eternity, all was deathly silent.

Kit hesitated, then raised just his head to look around.  He was dumbstruck with horror.  From his limited viewpoint, he could see that one of the walls of Cape Suzette Memorial was completely destroyed.  Reinforced beams still held the ceiling, but plaster and paint still rained down in portions.  Fire had begun to consume bedding in a corner, and bodies were scattered everywhere.  Kit was not sure if they were alive or . . . 

Somewhere, a nurse was screaming.  The sound pierced the ringing in Kit's ears.  He sat up slowly, then helped Molly to a sitting position.  She could not believe her eyes.  She wiped away her frightened tears, then struggled to stand up.  Blood already streaked her white uniform and a large cut graced her head from the brick.

"Molly—you're hurt."  Kit's mouth was dry.  The back of his knee was numb.  He ignored the sensation.

"Kit, I'm fine."  Her eyes were glassy.

"No, you're shell shocked.  You need help."

"Don't be silly, Kit!  I'm supposed to be giving help."  She gave herself a cursory inspection.  "Honest, it's not bad.  Just some superficial cuts.  I'm fine."  Still a little dazed, she hurried to one of the closest victims, a doctor.  "Kit, can you help me get this block off of his leg?"  Kit and Molly strained to remove a large cinderblock from the doctor's lower extremity.  The doctor moaned in pain, but did not appear to be fully conscious.  After he was freed, Molly looked around helplessly.  "What are we going to do?"

Without warning, a stream of hospital personnel flooded the partially demolished room.  They had all been in other parts of the hospital and had just now come to rescue the survivors.  Molly now finally allowed Kit to help her to an empty hospital gurney.  She sighed and let her head rest on the pillow.  She felt very tired.

"Molly!"

"Hmmmm?"

"Do not go to sleep, do you hear me?"

"Oh, Kit, I'm fine.  I just need a little nap.  I'm dizzy . . ."

"Molly, something hit your head.  If you go to sleep—"  Kit couldn't finish the sentence.  He searched frantically for a doctor to assist.  He couldn't watch his love die in her sleep.  He could tell the "scratch" on her head was surprisingly deep; she was losing a lot of blood.  He pulled off his shirt and tried to staunch the flow of blood.  "Doc!  Hey, somebody!"  Tears burned down his face.

After a few seconds, someone relieved him.  Kit couldn't even see the face through his tears.  He fell down to the floor, rocking himself and holding his head in his hands.  He had almost let Molly die; he had nearly entirely forgotten his basic medical training.  He felt lost, alone.  Someone tried to talk to him, but he could say nothing, do nothing.  He sobbed.  He felt like he was losing it.  Finally, he heard someone say, "She's gonna be ok."

He gulped in great, giant breaths.  He touched something warm and sticky on the floor around him.  A slightly metallic smell began to fill his nostrils.  He shook his head, still trying to gain control over his senses.  "Thank you.  Thank you."  Kit kept repeating the phrase.  After a moment, he heard a gasp and felt a burning pain in his arm.  The burning turned to numbness; he realized he had been injected with some kind of anesthesia or painkiller.  He felt his body relax involuntarily, then someone lifted him onto a cot, positioning him on his stomach.  His eyelids grew heavy, and he turned his head.  The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Molly's blond hair streaked with red.

****

"-it?  Kit?"

Kit's head felt as though it were being assaulted by several jackhammers.  His eyes flickered open; almost immediately, he regretted the action and he closed his eyes again.  However, the brief sight of Baloo towering over him was comforting.

"Kit, boy, if you're awake, squeeze my hand."

Kit squeezed with all of his might, but was only able to make a slight pressure.  Baloo sighed with relief.

"Kit, you're alright.  Gave us a scare."  Kit felt Baloo's hand tighten around his.  "You lost a lot of blood yourself.  You got cut behind the knee pretty bad.  They found it just in time."  Baloo's other hand stroked Kit's forehead and answered his silent question.  "Molly's fine, thanks to you."

Kit whimpered in response.  Baloo leaned closer.  "Papa Bear . . . I . . . screwed up."

"No way, Lil' Britches.  If not for you, she would have fallen asleep.  You were right—she had a concussion."  Baloo tried to comfort Kit as tears began to seep out from under closed eyelids.  "But she's fine now.  I'm sure she wants to see you.  No one knows how you got up and helped her with that gash, son.  You're a miracle."

Kit's body began to tremble again.  "What happened?" he croaked.

"Nobody's really sure.  Someone got past the cliff guns . . . maybe a double agent, we don't know.  Usland's in a big uproar—hospitals all around the country were bombed."  Baloo gritted his teeth.  "You two were lucky."

Kit's mind, still heavily medicated, drifted away from Baloo.  In his mind, he heard the explosion . . . thoughts of the battlefield filled his head.  Dan's plane going down.  His own plane hit.  Molly . . . .  He tried to open his eyes, but was still too tired.

"Get some rest, Kit.  I'll be here."  Baloo squeezed Kit's hand again.  Kit fell into an uneasy sleep without dreams.

****

Molly stirred in her bed.  Her head was aching, but other than that, she felt fine.  She opened her eyes to see her mother sleeping in a chair.  Molly then glanced at her own body, now clad in a hospital gown, seeing several cuts and scrapes.  She wrinkled her brow, only to feel the pull of the stitches in her forehead.  "Mom?"  Molly's voice was barely audible.  Rebecca jerked awake.

"Molly?"

Molly nodded.  "Where's Kit?"

"In a room down the hall.  Honey, we're so glad you're alright."  Rebecca choked back tears.  She was tired of crying.

"Is Kit ok?"

Rebecca nodded, almost unable to speak.  "He's hurt, but he's fine now."  She gathered Molly to her for a hug.  Molly nestled into her mother's arms.  "Sweetie, when we heard, Baloo and I thought we'd lost the two of you."

Molly smiled for her mother's sake.  "Not that easily, Mom!"  Her smile faded.  "Were we really bombed?  It wasn't some kind of accident?"

Rebecca was quiet.  "Yes.  I'm afraid so.  When we heard . . ."  She trailed off, shaking her head.  "I never thought Cape Suzette would be hit.  I mean, I knew we were a target, being so close to enemy lines."

"Were any other places hit?"

Rebecca shook her head.  "Only hospitals."  She shrugged uneasily.  "I've heard it was to destroy morale; I just pray that their strategy fails."

Molly nodded.  What's going to happen now?"

"Security will get tighter; the cliff gunners will be monitored more closely.  Radio communication will be lessened.  I'm sure we'll have a lot more restrictions placed on us."

"Do you think Kit'll have to go back?"

Rebecca sighed heavily.  "More than ever, Molly.  I know it's hard, sweetie, but hopefully this war will be over soon.  Just keep praying."

"I am, Mom."  Molly's voice cracked.  "I am."

****

_Two weeks after Kit's return to duty . . ._

Kit pounded angrily on the typewriter keys.  Now he knew why he hated deskwork; it was too much like being back in school.  Not only was he practically chained to his desk, but the government had felt he was best suited to work in Anglia, hundreds of miles away from Cape Suzette.  He stopped typing for a moment and stretched his arms and legs.  "What I wouldn't give for an hour in my plane," he grumbled under his breath.  A secretary hurried in and gave him another report to file.  He sighed as he glanced over it.  Another list of casualties.  He scanned it as usual to see if he recognized any names.  None this time.  He rubbed his eyes and cranked another page into the typewriter.  He had just begun typing when the secretary came back.

"Telegram for you, Kit."  She casually handed him the message.

"Thanks, Sara."  He read it carefully . . . once, then twice.  Letting out a yelp of joy, he threw it into the air.  Sara stuck her head back into the room.

"Kit?"

"I'm back in business, Sara!  The airstrip calls."  Finally!  Two months after the accident, his company was finally requesting him back into full and active service.  He breathed a thankful prayer, put aside the pending report, and began a letter to Molly.

****

"Mom!"

Rebecca sealed an envelope before answering.  "Yes, dear?"

"Kit's going back into active duty!"  Molly's hands shook as she read Kit's newest letter.

Rebecca nearly gave herself a paper cut.  "What?"

"They're putting him back in a plane."  Molly couldn't help but let her emotions show.  "Oh, Mom, do you think that's a good idea?"

"Now, Molly, he'll be fine.  They wouldn't let him fly if he wasn't ready for it."  She moved around the desk to Molly's side, engulfing her daughter in a hug.  "Have faith."

****

Kit was a little nervous as he rode the jeep toward the base.  He'd missed his buddies more than he'd thought.  Was it going to be the same?  Would he be the same pilot?  He longed to run his hands over the controls of his plane.  The jeep stopped long enough to allow Kit to collect his belongings and get out, then sped away.  Kit swung his duffle bag over his shoulder and made his way into the main tent.  

"Private Christopher Cloudkicker, reporting for duty, sir!"

The captain returned Kit's salute.  "At ease, Private."  He shuffled some papers on the desk.  "Glad to have you back."  He even cracked a half smile.  He handed Kit a briefing.  "Get some rest; the squadron's got a run in the morning.  0400 hours."

Kit fought against making a face; he'd almost forgotten about those early morning drops.  "Sir, thank you, sir."  With a quick salute, he made his way to his assigned tent.

"Well, if it isn't Cloudkicker!"  Doug Steele grabbed Kit in a quick, one-armed hug.  "You're looking good, man!"

"Thanks, Doug."  Kit smiled.  "It's good to be back."  He dropped his duffle and surveyed the interior of the tent.  "I hear we're running early?"

Doug grimaced.  "You know it.  Guess you haven't missed those, huh?"

"Right."  Kit snorted.  "I think I'm going to check out my new assignment."

"Hey, man, lead the way.  I'll hang with you, if that's alright."

Kit shrugged.  "Fine.  Chow's next, right?"

"Yup.  Good ol' tin cans of something."

****

Kit felt tears prick his eyes as he sat in his new plane.  Everything gleamed in the late afternoon sun.  He glanced out of the cockpit at Doug.  Doug seemed to acting strangely.  Maybe Kit just had been out too long.  Doug was walking around his plane carefully, checking the landing gear, the propellers, anything that he could see.  Kit leaned out a bit.

"Doug?"

"Yeah, Kit?"  Doug ran his hand over a propeller blade.

"Something wrong?"

Doug shook his head.  "It's just what I do before runs anymore."  He met Kit's eyes.  "There's talk of sabotage in the squadron."

Kit's brow furrowed.  "Sabotage?"

Doug's voice lowered.  "Remember Jack Ulster?"

Kit nodded.  "He helped me out after Dan's plane went down.  I remember seeing his name on one of the lists I had to file."

Doug's voice was almost a whisper.  "He wasn't shot down."

Kit's eyes narrowed with disbelief.  "Are you saying-"

"That's exactly what I'm saying.  Don't trust anyone anymore, Kit."  Doug paused before walking away.  "Not even me."

Kit sat in his plane, the afternoon sun glowing orange in the foreign sky.  He watched as Doug's retreating form disappeared into their tent, then Kit made his way out of the cockpit.  Before getting some rest before the early run, he ran a cursory inspection of his own.

****

Kit felt himself being jostled awake.  "C'mon, buddy.  0330 is here."  Doug gave Kit one extra shake, then proceeded to splash some water on his own face.

Kit groaned, then pulled himself out of bed.  He did a quick calculation in his head; it was around 9:30 p.m. in Cape Suzette.  Molly would be getting home from the hospital about now.  Rebecca would be on the phone with Baloo, making sure that he would be on time for tomorrow's delivery.  Wildcat would be spraying the Sea Duck down after the day's deliveries.  Life was going on there.  He felt a twinge of regret as he pulled on his scarf and leather jacket.  He could have stayed if he had wanted to—but this, he reminded himself, was going to save some lives.  He pulled on his heavy gloves and made his way out to his plane.

Out of curiosity, he made another inspection of his aircraft.  The ration packages had been loaded last night, fuel tanks were filled, and everything was supposed to be in top condition.  He felt his hands shaking as he climbed into the cockpit.  He forced himself to focus on the mission ahead.

The radio crackled in the early morning stillness.  Kit double checked his directives, then warmed up the plane.  Around him, nine other pilots went through the same motions.  In the pre-dawn, he waved at Randy; somehow, Randy saw him and gave Kit a thumbs up in return.  Kit tried to be optimistic about his mission.  He ran his hands over his controls; he had to admit—he still felt at home in a plane.  The airstrip roared to life.  Kit felt the nervousness drain away as he soared into the air.  The time it took to reach their drop point seemed relatively short; this bothered Kit.  This meant that the enemy was making its way closer to their base of operations.  He pushed the thought out of his mind as he made the drop and radioed back to base.  As he maneuvered his plane to return, he heard other pilots radioing back as well.  


End file.
